


Rival

by jl_micasea



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: All Rights Reserved, Alternate Universe - Office, Angst, Breathplay, Do Not Translate, Do not repost, Enemies to Lovers, Enemy Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, SKz Smut, Spanking, Stray Kids Smut, Swearing, and bad rep, minho has a filthy mouth, minho is an asshole and everyone knows it, stray kids x reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:55:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28914972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jl_micasea/pseuds/jl_micasea
Summary: He’s unbearable. The embodiment of everything you detest, from the way he saunters across the office to his smarmy smile. Yet there’s something about him that’s… utterly appealing.
Relationships: Lee Minho | Lee Know/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	Rival

**Author's Note:**

> Repost from my old Tumblr account.  
> Enemies to still enemies but they're banging now I guess? I just adore writing office settings like this. Feedback appreciated through AO3 or via Tumblr @jl-micasea. Please consider leaving kudos or a comment on this if you enjoyed it, they're all responded to and are what keeps me motivated. ~Mica  
> ~ [Tumblr](https://jl-micasea.tumblr.com/)  
> ~ [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/jlmicasea)

##### If someone was ever to ask you to describe yourself in three words, you certainly would never have used angry, vindictive or generally pessimistic.

In fact, you considered yourself to be quite the opposite. You actively tried to be a good person, always staying aware of the effect your words and actions could have on others. Never being too forceful with your opinions, always remaining perfectly pleasant and amicable.

Yet despite yourself, here you were. Wondering how much pain you could inflict on a person using just a stapler and a biro pen.

When Lee Minho was around, those attributes bubbled up inside you like a boiling cauldron, and there was no end to your sadistic creativity as a result.

You watched him from across the office, absently tracing your fingertip around the rim of your empty coffee cup, your mind conjuring up new and inventive ways of bringing that asshole down a peg or two.

You found yourself imagining how hilarious it would be if someone ‘accidentally’ replaced the sugar in that black coffee he was drinking with salt. You pictured the way he’d recoil and choke on it, spitting it out and making a fool of himself.

Because that’s only what he deserved.

In all your years of being alive and interacting with people, you’d yet to meet another human who pushed your buttons the way he did.

His self-centred attitude, gargantuan ego and tendency to belittle people was second to none, yet somehow, those same people he lorded over continued to hang off his every word, leering around him like cats in heat. As if just being near him automatically bumped their social status.

You’d worked with him for several years, and you couldn’t deny that his work ethic and ability to sell the shit products this company produced were nothing short of miraculous. You were also well aware that he was probably the biggest reason you were still in a job. Without his ridiculous volume of sales, the profits the company made would plummet, forcing everyone out into the world of unemployment. He was essentially single-handedly keeping this company alive.

But _jesus_ , did he know it.

He was the unofficial poster boy for the front end of the business. The walking, talking, self-made wheeler dealer that had women and men running to his beck and call the minute he snapped his fingers. He treated people with all the respect of a dog, and worse than that, they didn’t seem to mind. But that was only until he switched to his salesman mode.

In that mode, he’d make you feel like you were the most important person he’d ever met, building you up and establishing a relationship until you caved and accepted his offers. Because that was what _really_ made Lee Minho. The uncanny way that he’d turn situations around, chipping away at people until, in the end, they felt that _they_ needed to please _him_ , despite the fact that they were the customer. They’d end up spending as much money as it took to keep him around.

Although it never worked. You’d seen it too many times. How a customer would essentially bankrupt themselves, buying everything they could at Minho’s behest, in a desperate attempt to stay in his good graces.

He thrived off the idea of worming his way into people’s lives, to the point where it had gone far beyond just doing it for the sake of the job. It was his way of life. It was how he got his kicks.

And you fucking despised him for it.

* * *

##### “Hey, did you hear?”

Your ears pricked up as you waited for your lunch to warm through in the microwave. Using the shared company kitchen wasn’t something you enjoyed doing, for this exact reason. Shared spaces like this had a tendency to attract your more gossip-prone colleagues, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to face another stale sandwich from the shop down the road.

You rested your weight on the kitchen counter, pretending not to listen to the conversation going on behind you.

“Hear what?”

“Well,” the smartly dressed woman began, clearly loving that she’d hooked someone to her bait. “Apparently that Minho guy from Sales broke the record this month. That’s the third time in a row he’s done it!” She cooed.

“Really?” The other woman gasped. “Ugh, I just don’t know how he does it. I’d be tempted to ask for tips myself if he wasn’t so cute.”

 _Cute?!_ Wouldn’t have been the word you’d chosen…

“I know, right? It’s almost intimidating how hot he is… do you think he’s got a girlfriend?”

You rolled your eyes as you listened to them pine over him. They were at least right in that he’d broken sales records again, because you’d been the first one to find out. He outsold you every single month, promptly kicking you down the list of best sellers in the company. You were critically aware of it, and you hated that there seemed to be nothing you could do to reclaim your title, despite all your efforts.

“Maybe we should just ask him, you know? What’s the harm? It’s not like he’ll bite our heads off…”

You almost wished they would ask him to divulge his secrets. You could just picture the look on his face, how utterly offended he’d be that they dared to approach the _great_ Lee Minho for help. You made a mental note to be there for that one.

“Good afternoon, ladies…”

A smooth, honey like voice crooned from the door, and you instantly recognised it. Revulsion crept through your veins, and you made a point of not turning around to greet him.

“M- Minho! Hi! How’s your day going?” One of the woman practically squealed.

“Much better for seeing you, sweetheart. How’s the Quality department getting on? I should visit you guys more often…”

_Ugh._

“O- oh, we’re fine! I’m fine! Yes, you should come visit us! We get lonely upstairs, you know…”

The shrill ping of the microwave told you that your food was done, much to your relief. You opened the little door, carefully reaching inside and pulling your steaming lunch out. All you wanted to do was leave this room, as quickly as possible.

“Y/N?”

_Oh, god no._

You tensed as you heard his footsteps approach you from behind, and your shoulders raised by themselves as you felt his presence next to you. You heard the other two women walk away, shooting daggers into your back as they left.

“Hello…?” He half-laughed, leaning over the counter to get your attention.

“Hi, Minho.” You sighed, your tone deadpan. You mentally cursed out the microwave for drawing his attention to you.

“How are you?” He smiled, putting on his politest act.

“Hungry. Tired. And for some reason, suddenly pissed off.” You stated, putting on just as fake a smile as he’d given you. “I wonder why that is?”

Minho narrowed his eyes, licking his bottom lip as he picked up on the tone you were using. You weren’t sure why, but something about the small action made you look twice.

“Hey, so… I saw last months’ sales figures. Guess who came out on top?” He suddenly smirked, sweeping his hand through his hair as he ignored your blatant diss.

You weren’t about to play this game with him.

“No clue…” You sighed, emptying the hot plastic tub onto a plate you’d retrieved from the cupboard.

“I’ll give you three chances to guess.”

You shrugged your shoulders, taking a fork from the drawer.

“I don’t think three will be enough. I simply just have no idea…”

“I think you do. Here, I’ll give you a clue. He’s the best looking guy in the company.” He stated.

You whipped your head around to face him, shooting him an ice cold glare.

“Minho,” you mumbled, lowering your tone as you took a step closer to him. “I know that you absolutely _need_ to have people stroke your ego for you and reinforce your masculinity, but I see you for exactly what you are. You won’t get that from me. So kindly, fuck off please.”

Minho shook his head, reaching out to grab your wrist as you turned away from him. He leaned in to your ear, whispering under his breath as he spoke.

“Maybe it’s not my ego I want you to stroke, you cheeky little bitch… you have no idea how _fucking_ hard you make me when you talk like that.”

Your eyes flew open and you snatched your wrist away, almost choking as you heard the words.

“Y- you’re crazy…” You stammered, stumbling back into the counter.

Minho’s gaze trailed over you lazily, taking in every bit of your body as he stalked towards you.

“Really? You’re telling me that you don’t feel… _this_?” He purred, wagging his finger between the two of you, indicating at an invisible thread of attraction.

You shook your head slowly, putting far less determination into it than you really should have.

Because the truth was that you knew exactly what he was referring to. The sexual tension, the almost electric chemistry that was quickly building between you the closer he got.

You swallowed, fighting to control your breathing as he placed his hands either side of your waist on the counter, his body pressing flush against yours.

“I know you’re secretly gagging for me to ruin that uptight little cunt of yours…” He purred, leaning in and grazing his lips over your cheek.

“W- what?! D- don’t touch me…” You muttered, your eyes fluttering as his lips fell to your neck, tracing a path of gentle tingling over the skin.

“You can drop the act, kitten. Your body’s telling me everything I need to know…”

A small sound of wanting escaped you as he wound his arm around your waist, sliding his hand over the small of your back. He hiked up the material of your pencil skirt, his hand roaming over the supple skin of your butt cheek as he squeezed and massaged it, all the while keeping his breath hot on your exposed neck.

“ _Fuck_ … Not here…” You breathed, suddenly becoming conscious that someone could walk in at any time. You curled your fingers into his suit jacket, pushing him away just enough to get him to come back to his senses.

“After work then… meet me in the car park at 6.” He whispered, gently licking at your ear lobe, sending a helpless shiver down your spine. “And take tomorrow off. You’ll need it after the things I’m going to do to you.”

His hand wound into your hair, tugging at the roots as he yanked your head back for him. You whimpered as he sucked your bottom lip between his teeth, sinking them into the flesh as he tugged at it. It wasn’t a kiss. It was an act of ownership… meant to tell you that you were in for a world of pains and pleasures that you’d never experienced before.

He released you harshly, licking his own lips as he looked you over once last time. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit trousers, presumably to conceal his straining erection, he walked away from you, leaving you totally breathless and with fiery red cheeks.

You hated this man. You’d never wanted anything to do with him as friends, let alone in a sexual capacity.

So, why then, were you positively quivering with lust?

* * *

##### After that little incident at lunch, you hadn’t been able to concentrate for the rest of the day.

How could you have?

Multiple trips to the bathroom to deal with the sopping wetness in your panties had been hopelessly in vain, because every time you so much as caught a glimpse of him from around the office, you’d gush all over again. A sly wink or a simple look from him made you blush, and you were shamelessly counting down the seconds until close of play.

And now, it was here. 6pm.

You promptly switched off your computer and gathered your things, your legs carrying you as fast as you could walk in your stiletto heels as you rushed for the elevator.

Rearranging your skirt around you, you stepped out into the car park and looked around for him. It didn’t take you long to spot him. You knew which car was his, because it was the flashiest one here. He never missed an opportunity to remind people that the 'killer little beauty with the 630 horsepower engine’ was his baby. But aside from that, he was also leaning on it nonchalantly, swinging the keys around his fingers. He stood out from a mile away.

You approached him and gradually began to feel more unsure about this whole thing as he spotted you from across the tarmac.

“Get in.” He commanded, not bothering with the formalities.

“Jesus, alright.”

He popped open the passenger side door, leaving you to get in for yourself. You half laughed in disbelief at his abruptness. As if you’d needed a reminder about how much of an asshole he was.

“Your place or mine?” You asked, fluffing out your hair around your shoulders as the engine of his sports car roared to life.

If you were really going to do this, you might as well fucking enjoy it.

* * *

##### It didn’t take long after you got to Minho’s apartment for him to have you up against the wall.

In fact, it had been pretty much instantaneous.

You had your arms around his neck, locked in a frantic and messy embrace with him as he clawed at your clothes. Small gasps of pleasure emitted from you as he tore off your skirt and blouse, tossing them to the floor with no regard for where they landed.

His eyes flashed with lust as he noticed what you were wearing underneath that dress suit. Black lace lingerie, complete with suspenders and stockings, clinging deliciously to your curves. You’d always worn this kind of thing under your work clothes, mostly because it was the only thing you wore that made you feel even marginally like a woman. It was your secret vice, and right now, you’d never been more grateful for the little habit you’d developed.

The veins in his neck bulged as he took in the sight of you, and he firmly grabbed you by the wrist, dragging you into his expensively furnished living room.

“If I’d known this was what you looked like under those terrible clothes, I’d have fucked you sooner…” He growled, pushing you back to the sofa.

The cushions engulfed you, acting as a soft landing for you as you smirked at his loss of self control, minus the comment on your fashion sense. You watched as he sunk to his knees, his hands roaming over your legs, picking at the material of your stockings as pure desire crossed his face.

“ _Fuck_ … I love these-” He purred, yanking your hips to the edge of the sofa as you sunk into the cushions. He hooked your legs over his shoulders, the heels on your feet dangling helplessly from your toes as he proceeded to dive between your thighs.

Your breath hitched as he connected his lips with the fabric of your lace panties, his breath hot on your slit.

“Move these.” He commanded, nipping at your inner thighs. You reached down between your legs, sliding your panties aside and exposing your glistening folds to him. He hummed and licked his lips at the sight, his fingers hooking under the suspenders on your thighs as he held you in place.

“Hold them there.”

You nodded breathlessly, your back arching off the seat of sofa as he slowly dragged his tongue through your labia.

“Ugh… _fuck_ -” You whimpered quietly, the sensation of his mouth devouring your pussy quickly becoming all you could feel. He lapped at your core, fluttering his hot tongue intermittently over your most sensitive areas, causing you to twitch and convulse under him.

“You like this, baby?” He whispered against your wetness, sucking gently on your clit before soothing it down with a soft lick of his tongue.

“Y- yes… I always knew that tongue was good for something other than fucking customers over…” You half laughed, crying out again as he continued his motions.

“Bitch.” He muttered under his breath, assaulting your core with rapid flicks of his tongue, relentless in his desire to make you cum, but only for his own smug satisfaction. You were sure this would be something for him to brag about later, but right now, you couldn’t have given less of a fuck. All you wanted was for him to take you to your high, and it was now fast approaching.

“P- _please_ …” You whined, struggling to keep your hold on your panties as the knot in your stomach threatened to explode.

“Please what, slut?”

“Make me cum… I- I’m so close…”

You felt him smile against your heat as he slowed his pace, adapting a gentle but firm application of pressure to the hood of your clit and your quivering pussy. Repetitive, consistent laps of moisture against your swollen bud pushed you into you utter ecstasy.

“Y- _yes_ … Oh m- my _god_ …”

Your words came out as a breathy exclamation as your legs began to tremble violently on his shoulders. Your walls constricted around nothing as your whole body tensed, every muscle contracting and then releasing in delicious, sheer pleasure as your orgasm flooded you with brutal force.

“M- Minho… _fuck-_ ”

Sliding his middle finger into your velvety walls, he pumped you firmly, riding you through your bliss and caressing your g-spot as he watched you fall apart with intense desire.

Your tremors began to subside as your orgasm gradually faded, leaving you awash with warmth and with a desperate craving to be fucked by this man that had just taken you to heaven.

Your eyes locked with his, hooded and glassy. He visibly swallowed, planting a small, wet kiss on your heat before dropping your legs from his shoulders. He pulled you up by your hands, winding his arms around your waist as you sat upright on the edge of the sofa.

Your heels connected with the laminate of the dark wooden floor, and you wound your fingers into his silky tresses as he remained on his knees. You tugged his head backwards, pressing your lips to his. There was less ferocity in this kiss, less desperation as you both came to realise that you had all the time in the world. The initial need to fuck was still painfully present, but Minho seemed… entranced with you as you slipped your tongue between his lips, tasting yourself in his saliva. He dipped his fingers into your lace panties, sliding them down over your legs.

“Have I ever told you that you’re fucking beautiful?” He mumbled, his hands grazing your thighs.

“Have I ever told you that you I hate you?” You smiled slyly, resting your forehead against his.

A low growl emanated from his throat, and he promptly pulled you off the sofa, straddling you across his lap. You gasped in surprise as your soaking pussy connected with his smooth, solid length, his hands firm on your hips as he ground up into you. You had no idea when he’d freed his erection, but you’d been too fucked out to notice anyway. He reached up to grasp your throat, forcing you to look at him as he constricted your airway.

“Let’s not forget that you were just screaming my name, slut. Seems like you need reminding who’s in charge here, hm?”

You weren’t given a chance to think of a witty comeback before he hiked you upwards, then lowered you back down with ease. You mewled and threw your head back, choking on the whines of pleasure as his length slid inside you, filling you to your very centre.

Minho hissed through his teeth as your snug pussy accepted him. Without giving you much time to adjust, he promptly snapped his hips, mustering all the strength in his muscles as he began to selfishly fuck you.

You bounced helplessly in his arms, your eyes watering from the lack of oxygen, your chest heaving as you struggled to breathe in his overwhelming grasp. One arm wound tightly around your waist, as his other hand retained its’ grip on your neck. You clawed at his shoulders, whimpering uncontrollably as his throbbing cock claimed your still tender pussy over and over again.

“Stand up.” He growled, releasing his hold on you. “Time you learnt some fucking respect.”

You stood with shaky, trembling legs, powerless to do anything as he whipped you around to his glass dining table. He bent you over it, his fingers lacing into your hair and taking hold at the root as he kicked your legs apart. The cold surface of the glass against your bare body made you shiver, your breathless gasps and whines of delight creating frosty condensation on the table as he eased himself back into you, resuming his assault on your core.

Your back arched beautifully across the furniture, the heels you were wearing adding to the length of your legs and allowing your lower body to meet with his at just the right height, as he pounded you with newfound stamina. A quick, sharp slap to your butt cheek made you mewl. Minho’s eyes blackened, and he repeated the action to get you to squeal the same sound again.

“F- _fuck_ …” He hissed, his body tensing as the sounds of skin on skin became sloppier and less determined. You felt him stiffen inside you, approaching the point of his release. His hands held the curve of your hips tightly, pulling you back into him in an effort to reach you at your deepest point of pleasure, and you moaned sinfully in response to his orgasm as you felt it flood your walls.

He convulsed intermittently, sweat forming on the skin of his neck and staining his shirt collar as it met the fabric. He smacked your ass firmly, sighing heavily as he pulled himself out of you and zipped up his trousers.

Breathless and exhausted, you lifted yourself off the glass table, sweeping your hand through your matted sex hair.

“You can leave now.” Minho stated, grabbing your clothes from the floor and tossing them in your direction.

You caught them deftly, despite your lack of togetherness, and laughed under your breath as you shrugged on your shirt. This was almost definitely what you’d expected from him.

“This doesn’t make us a thing, you know.”

You rolled your eyes at him, buttoning your shirt up as quickly as you could.

“Why would I _ever_ want to be in a 'thing’ with you?” You quipped.

You held your skirt open, stepping into it and pulling it over your legs, once again concealing the stockings and suspenders that had driven him wild.

“Good. At least we’re on the same page then.”

“Sure, Minho.” You laughed, gathering yourself as you headed for the door. A good, raw fuck had been exactly what you’d needed. And he’d given you that, and then some.

“Still hate me?”

“Of course. You’re a prick.” You smiled, flashing him a thumbs up over your shoulder.

He chuckled under his breath, biting on his lip at your feisty display of arrogance.

“Same time tomorrow?” He called, still watching as you walked away.

You turned back briefly, giving him a small wink as you let the door close behind you.

“You know it…”

**Author's Note:**

> ~ Feedback via [Tumblr](https://jl-micasea.tumblr.com/)  
> ~ Support via [Ko-Fi](https://ko-fi.com/jlmicasea)


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